Brighter Than the Sun
by likecominghome
Summary: Childhood best friends Stiles and Lydia start hanging out more as teenagers and discover that they missed each other more than they thought. An AU where Lydia is a brilliant class skipping rebel and Stiles is the straight laced class president.
1. Chapter 1

He should have known studying with Lydia wasn't his smartest idea; but he'd always had problems saying no, especially to the girl with the smile that made him feel as though he was being electrocuted. The first time she asked, he was too distracted by the way her thumb was stroking his bicep to logically think through what she was saying and besides, she suggesting they hang out together for the first time in years and he wasn't going to pass up that opportunity.

All things considered, the first time they studied together hadn't been a complete disaster. And by that, he meant that he hadn't done anything incredibly stupid. He'd suggested they meet at the park because he knew how much Lydia loved being outside. They'd sat on opposite sides of a picnic table, their notebooks and binders spread out in front of them as they reviewed their biology notes and Stiles had done his very best to focus on his papers and not the girl across from him.

He should win some sort of acting award, he'd thought as he kept his eyes glued to his review sheet and listened to her hum as she took notes from her textbook, because he was getting really good at seeming as though he was completely indifferent.

Today, they were studying at his house, working on a research paper for their English class that wasn't due for a few weeks. Stiles had mentioned during their last study session that he liked to get things done early because he didn't enjoy the stress of procrastination and Lydia figured he could be a good influence, so she'd asked if they could work on it together.

Of course, he'd said yes, despite the fact that he knew logically it didn't make sense since they would have to turn in entirely different papers. It wasn't until that morning that he'd realized they would be in his house entirely alone. His father was moments away from leaving to go to the station for his night shift.

As Stiles stood in his bathroom, running his fingers through his hair to make sure it looked tousled in a way that seemed effortless, he was silently praying that his father would leave before Lydia arrived because the Stilinski boy had conveniently forgotten to mention his Sunday afternoon plans to his parent. This was mostly due to the fact that now that the sheriff was aware of Stiles's feelings – the information having been accidentally told to the sheriff by Scott – he got the biggest shit eating grin on his face whenever Lydia was mentioned in any sort of conversation.

What made matters worse was that he was pretty sure Melissa knew as well, made evident by the secretive smiles they both shared when Lydia had come bounding into the kitchen of the McCall house during the group dinner they had once a month the previous week.

Unfortunately, it seemed as though luck wasn't working in Stiles's favor, because before his father could shout upstairs that he was leaving, the doorbell rang. Sprinting out of his bedroom, Stiles ran down the stairs, hoping to beat the sheriff to the door, only to wince at the sight of his father already turning the handle.

He held his breath as he slid off the bottom step, shrugging at the sheriff's confused raised eyebrow before he pulled the door open to reveal Lydia Martin, her messy bangs falling into her eyes and wide smile on her face as she rocked back and forth in her scuffed combat boots, clutching the straps of the cloth tote bag that was hung over her shoulder. Stiles cocked his head to the side and licked his lips at the sight of the strip of skin that remained uncovered because she'd cut off the bottom of her Green Day t-shirt so it didn't quite reach the waistband of her black skinny jeans.

"Hi Sheriff!" she grinned, stepping through the door without invitation as though it was her own house and kissing Stiles's dad on the cheek. The sheriff didn't mind because he liked that she thought of his house as a second home, but he was a little confused as to Lydia's presence in the first place.

"Hey, Lyd," he furrowed his brow and shot Stiles, who had averted his gaze from Lydia's midriff, a questioning look. "What are you doing here?"

"Stiles and I have a study date!"

She wasn't sure why she used the word 'date' and she wondered if it was some sort of Freudian slip, all the while not noticing the way Stiles's cheeks flushed and the sheriff's eyebrows shot up as his lips twisted into a smirk and he shut the door.

"That's cool," the sheriff replied, shoving his hands into the pockets of his jeans and holding in a laugh as he ignored the daggers Stiles was glaring in his direction.

"English essay," Lydia explained with a shrug and a widening smile. "Super exciting stuff, right?"

"Well, you guys have fun," the sheriff grinned. "I'm actually about to go to work."

"Oh, nice," she nodded. "Stay safe, alright?"

"That's always nice to hear," the sheriff looked pointedly at his son, who sometimes thought the entire job of the police department was unnecessary, considering the lack of excitement in Beacon Hills. "She's a sweetheart."

Stiles rolled his eyes and raised one arm to lean against the railing of the staircase. "Dad, don't you need to go?"

One month ago, the sheriff would have had no problem leaving Stiles and Lydia alone in the house. He might have been surprised that they were spending time together, seeing as they hadn't hung out in years, but it wouldn't have made him uneasy. Now that he knew his son's feelings, however, he was worried that studying could escalate into something…more. It wasn't so much that he was against his son dating the daughter of people the sheriff had been friends with for years, but he was concerned that if things didn't end well, it would be awkward for everyone involved.

He knew his son well enough to know that Stiles would never intentionally hurt Lydia, but he also knew that as much as Lydia's parents liked to say that Lydia's love life was entirely her own business and she could take care of herself, they were still protective. The sheriff had been there when Mr. Martin had followed Lydia on her first real date, watching from a distance to make sure the boy she was with didn't try anything inappropriate. If things between Lydia and Stiles ended badly, the teenagers wouldn't be the only people scarred by the wreckage.

"Yeah," Sheriff Stilinski nodded, running a hand through his hair. Smiling sweetly, he took a step forward to kiss Lydia on the cheek before turning his gaze to his son. "Stiles, can you walk me out? I need to talk to you real quick."

Stiles shot his father a glare, but softened it to an apologetic glance as he cast his gaze at the brunette. "You wanna go set up in the backyard? I'll be out in a minute."

Nodding, Lydia stretched lips into an angelic smile and wiggled her fingers at the sheriff as a goodbye before walking towards the back door.

Once she was out of hearing range, Stiles narrowed his eyes at his father as they turned to walk towards the garage. "Way to be completely unsubtle, Dad."

"Sorry," The sheriff chuckled, digging his keys from his pockets and twirling them around his finger. "How come you didn't tell me you were hanging out with Lydia?"

"Because it's not a big deal," Stiles shrugged, lying through his teeth. "We're just studying."

"I know," The sheriff nodded once, stopping in front of the door to the garage and fixing his son with a stern stare. "And studying is all you're going to be doing, right?"

Stiles would be lying if he said that the thought of being completely alone with Lydia hadn't caused a bunch of knots to form in the pit of his stomach, but he also wasn't sure he had the guts to make the first move. Besides, Lydia was completely oblivious to how he felt, and there was never really a right time to spring an emotionally charged moment on someone.

So he rolled eyes again and shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans, his toes curling inside his pristine white Converse. "We're not gonna hook up while you're gone, if that's what you're asking."

"Ok," The sheriff shrugged, the tone of his voice conveying more trust than he actually felt. "Be good."

Stiles nodded and watched his father open the door to the garage and turn to press the button on the wall and he stood in the hallway until the garage door closed and he could hear the sheriff's car zooming down the street. Taking a deep breath, Stiles tugged his fingers through his hair, pulling and twisting upwards as he walked towards the back door, pushing open the mesh screen to see Lydia sitting with her back to him, her laptop open and books spread out on the large wooden patio table.

"Hey, sorry about that," he breathed out as he slipped into cushioned chair to her right, where his school materials were already set up, silently screaming with joy that she'd chosen to sit so close.

"About what?" she asked, her green eyes lifting from her computer screen as one hand reached up to fiddle with one of the many small rings pierced through the cartilage in her right ear.

Even if Stiles had responded with some sort of explanation, she probably wouldn't have comprehended a word because she was too busy trying not to notice how adorable he looked when he was flustered, with his reddening cheeks and rapid blinking. She knew she made him nervous; it wasn't hard to figure out, considering the rate at which he spoke in her presence, but she also knew she wasn't special in that regard. Give him a stadium full of people and Stiles Stilinski could charm the pants off every person in the audience, but one on one with a pretty girl and he turned into a stammering mess.

"Nothing," Stiles replied quickly, deciding that if she hadn't observed the sheriff acting strangely, then he certainly wasn't going to point it out. "Wanna get started?"

She nodded and reached for her battered copy of _To Kill a Mockingbird_ to find quotes to use in her essay, worn not because it was rattled back and forth in the bottom of her book bag, but because she'd spent so many hours turning the pages, discovering something new, even when she was reading it for the hundredth time.

They didn't speak much while they worked. Every so often, he'd point her to a quote that could be used to support her thesis or she would ask him whether a paragraph she was writing sounded awkward, but the soundtrack of their afternoon was mostly the soft breeze floating through the trees and the neighbor's dog barking from behind the fence of the house next door.

He thought it was nice that he was comfortable spending time with her but not speaking. Often times, he felt like his entire life consisted of listening to people talk or talking to other people and although he practically hung on to every word Lydia said, he liked that despite her generally vivacious personality, she didn't feel the need to fill the silence.

He also enjoyed the fact that their lack of interaction meant he didn't have to worry about embarrassing himself by tripping over his words while they spoke and that her concentration on her essay meant she didn't notice him glancing at her every few minutes, wondering if he'd ever get up the nerve to tell her the truth.

After about two hours, she shut her laptop and placed her book on top, rubbing her palms down her face as she spoke. "I'm starving. Do you wanna get some food?"

The thought of eating caused his stomach to growl as he realized he'd skipped lunch that day and he nodded eagerly as he closed his own books and began to pack up his things, knowing that he was probably on his own for dinner anyway. She slipped her laptop, books, and notebooks back into her bag and slung it over her shoulder as she waited for him to grab his own materials and walk back into the house.

It was only after he'd set his things down on the couch in the lounge room that he realized he didn't have his Jeep, as it was still in the shop, getting looked at for some leaky pumps.

"I can drive," Lydia suggested when he mentioned his dilemma with an apologetic smile, always the epitome of go with the flow.

Agreeing, he patted his back pocket to make sure his wallet was there and grabbed his house key from the hook on the wall by the door to the garage and a gray zip up hoodie from the closet in the hall to layer over his navy button up in case it got chilly later before following her out to the bright red Ford Fiesta her parents had let her borrow for the day.

Lydia was a meticulous driver. After getting into a fender bender while her sister, Allison, was in the car two years ago, she decided she never again wanted to see that look of fear on her sister's face and vowed to become the world's best driver. So even as she bopped her head and sang along to the classic rock station and they talked and laughed about the ridiculous pranks that had been pulled around school since the start of the term, she made sure she was following all the traffic rules.

After fifteen minutes, they pulled into the parking lot of a strip mall, Lydia insisting they go to this hole in the wall Chinese restaurant she'd discovered with her dad a few weeks before.

"Let's get it to go, though," she said, shooting him a secretive smile as they got out of the car. "There's somewhere I want to take you."

Generally speaking, Stiles wasn't a fan of not knowing what was going on, but the way her eyes lit with excitement and crinkled when she smiled was captivating, so he agreed and they were soon zooming down the road once more, the Fiesta now filled with the scent of friend rice and lo mein. He didn't question their destination because he could tell she was enjoying having a secret, and he was pleasantly surprised when they came to a stop in a sandy beach parking lot.

Much like his father, he had never learned to surf, but the beach was still one of his favorite places when he needed time to himself. There was something about sitting in the sand and listening to the waves crash on the shore that was completely calming.

Grabbing their food cartons, he followed her down to and across the sand until they reached a set of flat rocks. He watched her climb them as though it was something she did on a fairly regular basis, reaching down for the food before encouraging him to do the same. Taking a deep breath, he pulled himself up beside her, stretching out his legs to the front, but keeping his knees bent as he sat to her left and reached for fried rice.

"Do you come here a lot?" he asked as he opened the carton and shook off a few stray pieces of rice from the plastic fork he'd requested from the restaurant because he'd never quite gotten a handle on chopsticks. His eyes scanned over the coastline, soaking in the way the setting sun cast an orange glow across the water as the last of the beach's visitors began to pack up their chairs and towels, knowing that soon the water would be too cold to enjoy.

She shrugged as she pulled chopsticks from her lo mein and began to expertly twirl the noodles around the wooden utensils. "Sometimes. It's nice to get away every once in a while. Life can get so chaotic."

"I feel ya," he replied, shoveling a forkful of rice into his mouth and watching as she did the same with her noodles. Lydia had never been one to hide her emotions – something he both admired and envied about her because he often felt as though he was becoming too closed off – but as they sat on that rock and he watched the breeze blow strands of her strawberry blonde hair into her face, he couldn't help but think that the moment was a sort of insight into her soul.

She chewed thoughtfully on her noodles for a moment before responding, her lips stretching into a teasing smile. "I know you do, Mr. President. I don't know how you handle all those extracurricular activities."

It honestly came down a very complicated schedule and really good organization, but Stiles desperately wanted Lydia Martin to think of him as more than just the class president, so he shrugged and stabbed a piece of chicken with his fork. "It's not that bad."

"Nah, I mean, kudos to you for being so involved and still being on the honor roll," she replied genuinely, "Is there anything you can't do?"

She meant it jokingly, though sometimes she did think Stiles Stilinski was Superman and she wondered if he had a kryptonite, not realizing that if he was asked, he would undoubtedly say it was her.

"I can't tie my shoelaces."

He blurted out the answer to her rhetorical question in an effort to prove her wrong and instantly felt his cheeks heat with a blush when her eyebrows shot up in surprise.

"What?" she sputtered out, eyes glancing down to the Converse that he'd need to bleach when he got home because the sand and residue from the rocks had made them dirty. He always bought shoes with laces in a size too big so that he could slip them on and off without actually needing to tie them up. And if tying was necessity, he asked his father for help, the only person who knew his secret.

"I just never really learned," he said quietly, keeping his eyes glued to his nearly empty carton because he didn't think he could handle looking at her directly.

"Do you want me to teach you?"

That wasn't the response he was expecting and he lifted his chin to look her in the eyes, finding her eyes filled with genuine honesty and not a trace of judgment in her expression. Perhaps he should have known better than to think Lydia would ever think less of him for his flaws. For her, it was just nice to know that Stiles Stilinski was human after all.

"That's alright," he laughed, a rush of relief flooding through his veins, despite the fact that he found the idea of Lydia teaching him how to tie his shoelaces to be strangely erotic. "I've survived this long without that skill, I think I'll be ok."

"Alright," she grinned, reaching over to take his now empty carton with the spoon inside, and twisting her torso to toss it, along with her trash, into a nearby can.

The sun had just about set, the shadows taking over the water and sand and he found himself glad that he'd pulled on his hoodie in the car because it was starting to get chilly. Lydia, however, had not had the same foresight and was shivering lightly as she sat beside him, arms wrapped around her knees, which were pulled to her chest.

"Do you want my jacket?" he asked, knowing his long sleeves would probably be enough to keep him sufficiently warm for a while.

She shook her head, her eyes lighting with a different idea and she nodded towards the water. "We should go in."

He pulled his brows together in confusion. "In the water? It'll be freezing."

"Come on, Stilinski," she grinned, pushing herself to her feet. "Live a little."

The rational part of him knew that wasn't a good enough reason to follow her, but the emotional part of him always had a weakness for her smile, so he used his palms to push himself upwards as well and dusted off the back of his dark wash jeans before following her back down the rock and landing in the sand with a soft thud.

"We don't have swim suits," he pointed out the obvious once they were both on the ground.

Flashing him a devious grin, she gave him no warning before she crossed her arms over herself and curled her fingers beneath the frayed hem of her shirt, pulling it over her head and dropping it on the sand. This had never been part of the plan, but she'd never been one for plans in the first place.

He blinked rapidly, averting his eyes from her nearly bare torso as quickly as possible because he didn't want to give her the impression that he was checking out her body, despite the fact that he was, in fact, checking out her body. As he turned his head to look away, however, something caught his eye and his eyebrows shot up in surprise at the sight of the markings on her ribs. In black ink, just below her bra line, were four number, arranged close together to look like a year and just below that, a cursive 'a'.

He furrowed his brow in confusion as he nodded at the tattoos, cheeks still tinted red at the surprise of her taking off her top. "I didn't know you had those."

She glanced down at where he was looking as she kicked off her boots and lifted her feet individually to peel off her socks as well. "Yeah, for a couple months now."

After her feet were bare, she shot him a pointed stare, silently wondering why he was still wearing clothes. Thinking perhaps, that being in his underwear as well would make things slightly less awkward, he stepped out of his Converse and peeled off his socks and set them to the side before shrugging off his hoodie and beginning to unbutton his shirt.

"The numbers," she began to explain, "are from…"

He cut her off before she finished. "From your parents' divorce. The date is from three years ago."

Stiles recognized the inked numbers because he remembered it had been an extremely hard time for Lydia. The divorce had taken her completely by surprise and although she never quite understood why it happened, she soon learned that her parents were much happier apart than they had ever been together. The tattoo was homage to the fact that she'd always love her parents and always respect that they knew exactly what they wanted.

"Yeah," Lydia nodded as she popped open the button of her jeans, impressed with his observational skills. "And the 'a' is for Allison."

He wasn't at all surprised. Lydia was the most devoted sister that could ever exist. He could relate because despite the fact that they were both so stubborn that they squabbled often, he knew that when it came down to it, he would do pretty much anything for Scott. They may not have been blood related, but Stiles considered him a brother nonetheless.

"Do your parents know?" he asked, shrugging his shirt off his shoulders and folding it neatly before leaning down to place it on top of his shoes.

"They didn't at first," she admitted, a little caught off guard by his toned abs, as she shoved her jeans down her legs and kicked them off her feet. "I didn't tell them when I first got them, but they figured it out eventually."

"Were they pissed?" he laughed, unbuckling his belt and pushing his jeans off as well, a little relieved that out of the many patterns of embarrassing boxers he owned, the ones he'd worn today were plain black.

She shrugged, squishing her toes into the sand, standing bathed in moonlight in just her mismatched underwear, a scene so surreal that he momentarily wondered if he was dreaming. "My parents can't really be pissed about me having tattoos considering they both have some of their own. What about you? Ever wanted one?"

"Not really," Stiles replied, not wanting to admit that he was a little afraid of needles.

If she suspected that as his reasoning, she didn't say, simply laughing again before nodding towards the ocean, her smile wide and exhilarating. "Come on!"

She took off running before he could respond and chuckled to himself as he ran after her, squeezing his eyes shut when his feet splashed through the water, freezing just as he expected it to be. They splashed each other repeatedly, laughing the whole time but couldn't stay in long because of the temperature.

Both shivering, they returned to where there clothes were laying in the sand and attempted to shake the water droplets from their bodies. Stiles used his button up to dry off his torso a bit before pulling it on and watching Lydia do the same with her t-shirt.

The long sleeves of his shirt were enough to keep him partially warm, but Lydia was still shivering beneath the thin cotton of her tee, so before she could protest, he shook out the sand from his hoodie and wrapped it around her shoulders. Smiling gratefully, she tugged the sleeves over her arms and pulled the sides over her front to hug herself and he helped her out by rubbing his palms quickly up and down her upper arms.

"Thanks," she laughed lightly, feeling her body temperature rising, more due to the fact that it was the closest she'd ever been to Stiles than his arm movements.

"You should have brought warmer clothes," he scolded her, though the tone of his voice was completely teasing.

"If I had, then we wouldn't be in this position right now," she pointed out. It was a bold thing to say, but she was getting tired of dancing around the subject. Dropping her arms, she flattened her palms against his bare chest, his skin still damp from the water, and tilted her chin upwards so could look him directly in the eyes, the corners of her lips lifting into a small smile when she felt his heart rate pick up beneath her touch. "I've missed you, you know."

It was the honest truth. Stiles had been her best friend as a child. They were practically joined at the hip and everybody knew that if they saw Stiles, Lydia was probably close by. But for Stiles, becoming a teenager had meant becoming responsible and Lydia had been reluctant to shed her rebellious ways and a result, they'd grown apart. As much as she missed being mischievous with him, she was proud of the person he had become and proud of all he'd accomplished. She just wished she was still a part of his life as well.

Stiles was pretty sure he had forgotten how to breathe. His hands ceased their movements and his mind was screaming echoes to her words, but he found himself unable to speak because he couldn't quite believe it was actually happening. Lydia had always been special to him, even as a kid. It wasn't until he was a teenager that the bond of friendship they'd shared as children had slowly morphed into something deeper, something more complex, something that he'd avoided talking about because he was certain she didn't feel the same way.

But now here she was, leaning closer as she stared at him with those eyes that made him feel completely lost but completely found at the same time.

Before he could work up the nerve to take action, she had closed the gap between them, kissing him soundly on the lips, her fingers crawling out to tug on the unbuttoned panels of his shirt for support. His fingers curled around her arms, pulling her close once he'd overcome his shock, returning the pressure to ensure her that her feelings were not at all one sided.

"I've missed you too," he finally whispered as they pulled apart, causing her to suck gently on his top lip before she took a step backwards, a gigantic grin brightening her face. He mimicked the expression as he reached down for his jeans, feeling slightly intoxicated despite the fact that he'd had no alcohol. Pulling his phone out of his jeans to check the time, his giddy mood came to a crashing halt at the sight of the ten missed calls from his parents because it was already thirty minutes past his curfew. "Shit."

"What's wrong?" she asked, wide eyed and wondering if he'd regretted kissing her as she tugged her jeans over her legs and jumped a few times to make them sit correctly on her hips.

"I'm late," he winced apologetically. "My dad is gonna kill me."

Technically speaking, Lydia did have a curfew, but her parents knew better than to expect her to actually abide by it, so as long as she didn't end up in trouble with the law, they never bothered to punish her for coming home at ridiculous hours. But Stiles's dad was unused to him breaking house rules, so the fact that he was late was a cause for great concern.

Realizing the urgency of the situation, they got dressed as quickly as possible and returned to the car, driving home in silence, each wondering what the kiss on the beach meant for their relationship.

Lydia grabbed Stiles's arm before he could get out of the car once they came to a stop in front of the Stilinski house. "Hey, wait a second."

He wasn't going to get out of the car anyway; he was already late, so a few extra minutes wasn't going to make his punishment that much worse. The entire car ride, all he could think was that he didn't want them to say goodbye as though nothing had happened, so he was happy that she seemed to be on the same wavelength.

"I'm not sorry for kissing you," he said, putting her fears to rest without her having to speak.

She stretched her lips into a wide smile as her features relaxed, her eyes twinkling. "Actually, I'm pretty sure I'm the one that kissed you."

"Oh yeah?" he raised his eyebrows, leaning across the center console.

"Yeah," she replied, mirroring his actions until their noses were brushing. "Don't you think you should return the favor?"

He didn't need to be asked twice and he pressed his lips to hers hard because he wanted to remember how it felt, cupping her cheek with his palm, and kept his closed for a moment when he pulled away, his lips automatically curving into a smile when his eyelids fluttered open. "Goodnight, Lydia."

Leaning back against her leather seat, she raised her hand in a wave and wiggled her fingers, a smile lingering on her lips as he pushed open the car door. "Goodnight, Stiles."

In a moment of confidence, he dropped one eye in a wink as he climbed out of the car, waving as he shut the door and watched her drive off before stuffing his hand into his pocket to pull out his key. He entered the house slowly, finding all the main lights off and wondering if his parents had gone to sleep.

"Where the hell have you been?"

Stiles squeezed his eyes shut and winced, thinking he should have known better. When he reopened them, he saw his father emerging from the kitchen where he'd been stress eating as he waited for his son, dressed in plaid pajama pants and plain white t-shirt, hand stuck inside a bag of Doritos.

"I was…." For a moment, Stiles contemplated lying because he didn't want his father to think of Lydia as a bad influence, but he also knew he was a terrible liar, so the sheriff would see through him immediately. "I was with Lydia."

The sheriff's eyebrows shot up in surprise as he removed his hand from the bag of chips. Of all the answers Stiles could have given, that was the last one the sheriff expected. Though, if anyone could convince his straight laced son to break the rules, it was Lydia Martin.

"We went to the beach and we kind of lost track of time," Stiles explained quickly, not wanting his father to get the idea that they were doing something far less innocent.

"The beach…," The sheriff repeated, nodding at Stiles's hair, which had been flattened by the water. "Is that why your hair is wet?"

"Yeah," Stiles sighed, running his hand through his locks as he twirled his key ring around his finger. "We went swimming."

The sheriff parted his lips to ask the obvious follow up question as to what they were wearing when they went swimming, but decided against it because he didn't really want to know. As far as he could, they hadn't seemed to have gotten in any trouble, and considering the company, the sheriff was going to take what he could get. "Ok."

"Ok?" Stiles asked, surprised at how easily he was getting off the hook. "So, everything's cool?"

The sheriff let out a light laugh. "Oh, you're grounded for missing curfew. I'm just sparing you the lecture because it's far too late and I'm much to tired."

Stiles knew better than to argue and make things worse, so he smiled gratefully instead. "Fair enough. Goodnight, Dad."

He went to make his way towards the staircase, but the sheriff calling his name caused him to turn his head before he reached the bottom step.

"Be careful, alright?" The sheriff said quietly once he had his son's attention.

Stiles didn't need to ask what the sheriff was talking about. "I'm not gonna hurt her. I promise."

"I know," The sheriff nodded, "But make sure you don't get hurt either."

It wasn't as though the sheriff thought Lydia would ever intentionally bring Stiles pain, but they were teenagers and they had no idea how their lives would play out and chances were that anything that happened between them would eventually end. The sheriff just wanted Stiles to be completely aware of what he was getting himself into.

Licking his lips, Stiles nodded in reply. "I won't."

The sheriff smiled softly, hoping for the sake of everyone involved, that those words were true. Stiles was rational and mature, but the sheriff knew from experience that deep feelings could affect the brain in a way that made a person completely crazy. "Goodnight, bud. Sweet dreams."

Waving, Stiles took the stairs two at a time, padding quietly down the hallway and stepped into his room, getting ready for bed while making as little noise as possible.

It was really incredible, he thought as he lay in bed, staring at the faded glow in the dark stars he'd pasted to his ceiling because he was afraid of the dark as a child, how much could change over time. Two days ago, kissing Lydia Martin was a fantasy, something he daydreamed about when someone in a student government meeting was going on a particularly long rant about something unimportant. But less than two hours ago, he'd discovered that it was possible for daydreams to come true and now he was wondering if it was something he'd have the pleasure of doing on a more regular basis.

They hadn't really talked about what it all meant, but he assumed there was plenty of time for that. They'd known each other their entire lives, so surely that wasn't going to change because of a few kisses. Deciding that the next day, he'd ask her on a real date, he turned on his side and shut his eyes.

That night, Stiles fell asleep with the corners of his lips upturned, unaware that three streets over, Lydia had fallen asleep smiling as well.


	2. Chapter 2

She was out of her element.

Mama Martin considered herself a strong woman, completely capable of taking care of herself, but as she sat on Lydia's bed and watched her daughter get ready for her date, she had never felt more helpless.

Under normal circumstances, she wouldn't have cared so much. Sure, Lydia would always be her baby girl and she would always do whatever she could to protect her daughter, but she also knew that Lydia was perfectly capable of taking care of herself as well. Physically weak as she may be, Lydia could demolish the male psyche with just her words and Mama Martin had the pleasure of watching her do so on multiple occasions when she received catcalls or unwanted advances in public.

But she didn't consider Lydia dating Stiles Stilinski to be a normal circumstance.

It wasn't as though Mama Martin saw Stiles as particularly dangerous boyfriend – if anything, Lydia was most likely the one who was the bad influence in the relationship – buts he didn't really understand how it worked. When they were children and practically attached at the hip, she and Sheriff Stilinski would often joke about their kids growing up and getting married, but after they'd turned into such different teenagers, all facetious comments made about a possible romantic relationship had ceased entirely.

Until about two months ago, that is, when Lydia and Stiles apparently started getting more friendly. It started with study sessions after school, which made Mama Martin suspicious because Lydia had never before shown any interest in improving her academics with the Stilinski boy. Soon enough, studying together turned into hanging out without any books involved and now it seemed the two teenagers were…well, Mama Martin wasn't exactly sure what they were doing, but it seemed a lot like they were dating.

"So…," Mama Martin called out from where she was perched on the edge of Lydia's bed, watching her daughter put the finishing touches on her makeup. "Big night tonight?"

Lydia shrugged as she rubbed her blood red lips together to smooth out the lipstick she'd just applied before responding. "Not really. I think we're just going to dinner."

"Oh," she blinked, noting the fact that Lydia was wearing the mint green sundress her mother had bought for her over a year ago, which had only been worn twice. "I just figured…since you're all dressed up."

Lydia didn't reply, but Mama Martin could swear her cheeks looked about three shades darker.

In general, Lydia enjoyed dressing up, especially putting on makeup because it was like painting a canvas and she got to recreate herself each time. But school wasn't really worth the extra effort, so she saved her best tricks for special occasions. Such as when she was going to get some one on one time with Stiles.

She knew he didn't really care either way, because whether she was wearing sweats or dressed to the nines, he always looked at her as though she'd somehow sucked all of the oxygen from the room. Still, she liked to try a little harder for him because the way his eyes widened and his cheeks flushed adorably was always worth it.

Mama Martin could tell her daughter was more into Stiles than she'd been into any of the previous guys she'd hung out with– she'd sat through enough awkward family dinners with them to know – so she put a lot of planning into how she phrased her next question.

"Lyd, are you and Stiles…"

"We're not having sex."

Mama Martin's eyes widened with horror at how casually Lydia spat that out and the fact that she was still checking her mascara in the bathroom mirror as though she hadn't just brought all sorts of mortifying thoughts to her mother's mind. "That's not what I was going to say!"

Mama Martin and Lydia had never discussed Lydia's sex life, mostly because Mama Martin enjoyed being blissfully ignorant and pretending her daughter didn't have one. But she supposed it was good that she was fine with openly admitting that she wasn't sleeping with Sheriff Stilinski's son.

In all honesty, Lydia didn't mean for those words to escape her lips, she was just pretending to be nonchalant once they had because she didn't want to reveal that the reason she'd said it in the first place was because the topic had been on her mind quite a lot. Mostly because it was something she wanted to change.

The fact that she knew Stiles so well meant she was aware of his fling the previous summer with Malia Tate and the fact that he was no longer a virgin. And seeing as she wasn't inexperienced in that respect either meant that she didn't really have any nerves about taking their relationship to that level. She just wasn't sure how to bring it up. Knowing her, she'd end up blurting it out during dinner later that night.

"What were you going to say?" Lydia said quickly, hoping the whole sex issue would just disappear if she changed the subject.

Mama Martin was still a tad shell shocked that it had been brought up in the first place, but she figured Lydia admitting that they weren't sleeping together was better than the alternative, so she continued. "I was going to say, are you and Stiles boyfriend and girlfriend?"

Lydia supposed it was a fair question. It wasn't one she and Stiles had actually discussed, though. Technically speaking, she hadn't locked lips with anyone else since the night she kissed him on the beach and she was pretty sure that he hadn't either, so perhaps that made them exclusive.

Shrugging, she turned away from the mirror and stepped into the bedroom, her bare toes squishing into the carpet. "I don't know. We haven't talked about it."

Nodding, Mama Martin wet her lips and chewed on her bottom one thoughtfully before responding. "Do you want to be?"

Lydia wouldn't mind, really. Labels didn't matter to her either way as long as they were both on the same page, but if Stiles wanted to call her his girlfriend, she'd wholeheartedly agree. Shrugging again, she stepped towards the closet to dig out her black boots. "It would be cool."

Mama Martin couldn't tell if Lydia was actually that easy going or she was hiding the fact that she was aching to be Stiles's girlfriend, but she decided not to push the issue when she heard the doorbell ring. The corners of her lips lifted slightly as she nodded towards her daughter's open bedroom door. "Is that him?"

"Probably," Lydia nodded, her heart rate picking up just slightly as she held her boots in one hand and checked the time on her phone on the dresser with the other. He was early, but she wasn't surprised. "Can you get that? I'll be down in a second."

Pushing herself to her feet silently, Mama Martin shuffled towards the door and down the stairs, only to see that Allison, who had been in the living room, cleaning her archery equipment, had gotten to the door first. She pulled it open to reveal Stiles, dressed in dark wash jeans, a light blue button up, and a gray blazer, his just too big white Converse looking sparkling from having been recently bleached.

"Hey, Allie," he shot the younger Martin daughter a friendly smile as he stepped through the door she had just opened. "How are you?"

"Great!" Allison grinned, her sunshine level at its highest point as she quickly wrapped one arm around his middle for a hug before shutting the front door. "You look really nice."

"Thanks," Stiles blushed lightly, running a hand through his perfectly tousled hair before turning his attention to Mama Martin. "Hey."

Never before had Stiles felt so uncomfortable in Mrs. Martin's presence; Mama Martin had a special talent for making everyone around her feel completely at home. Stiles doubted that laid back attitude was still applicable now that he was putting the moves on the Martin's daughter.

Mama Martin, on the other hand, was too curious as to the status of their relationship to care about whether or not Sheriff Stilinski's son planned on getting Lydia acquainted with the backseat of his car. Lydia wasn't being secretive, per se, but she did seem unsure and if there was one thing Mama Martin knew about Stiles Stilinski it was that he always knew exactly where he stood. So, chances were that he'd already figured everything out and might be willing to tell her exactly what he was to Lydia.

"Hey, Stiles," Mama Martin stretched her lips into a friendly grin, wrapping her arms around Stiles to give him a quick hug. "Good to see you."

"Same here," Stiles replied, feeling his anxiety levels lower at Mama Martin's relaxed mood.

"I'm always glad to see my daughter's boyfriend." Mama Martin threw the word out there because she figured she could judge its applicability by Stiles's reaction and was not disappointed when Allison ended up giggling and Stiles flushed a deep red and gaped as though he had no idea what to say.

The truth was that Stiles would have no problem being Lydia's boyfriend. But seeing as it wasn't something they'd actually talked about, he didn't want to make any assumptions. Just because he was growing crazier for her by the day didn't mean his feelings were reciprocated. For all he knew, she thought that whatever was going on between them was completely casual.

Thankfully, he was saved from having to respond at all when he heard someone cough and looked up to see Lydia descending the stairs, looking breathtaking as usual. He quite literally held his breath as she stepped off the bottom stair, wiggling her fingers at him as she came to a stop just beside him and shot him one of those smiles that made it seem like time had frozen.

"Well," Lydia laughed, turning her attention to her mother. "Are you done making Stiles feel uncomfortable? Can we go?"

Mama Martin smirked and nodded, leaning forward to kiss her on the cheek. "Have fun, honey. Don't stay out too late."

"We won't," Stiles promised, reaching for the door handle and letting out an inaudible sigh of relief that he no longer had to be in that situation. Pulling the door open, he waved goodbye to the two remaining Martins as Lydia quickly hugged Allison and stepped into fading daylight. "Bye. See ya, Allison."

His nerves remained high even as they walked towards the car because he could feel Mama Martin's stare on his back and it wasn't until after he'd opened the passenger door of his Jeep for Lydia and slipped into the driver's side and they had pulled out of the neighborhood that he finally allowed himself to breathe normally.

"Are you alright?" Lydia asked, furrowing her brow in concern. He'd seemed a little freaked out when she'd come down the stairs and she wasn't sure why.

"Yeah…," he answered slowly, keeping his gaze focused on the road. "Did you, um, did you hear what your mom said right before you came down?"

"No." Her eyes widened as her mind raced with the horrible possibilities. "Was it really awkward and inappropriate?"

"No!" he laughed, feeling his entire body relax. Now he could bring up the subject of that conversation at a later time, on his own terms. "Nothing like that. She was just being motherly, I guess."

Lydia had no clue what that meant and she could tell there was something Stiles wasn't saying, but she decided not to push the issue because there were much more important things on her mind. Like the fact that he looked utterly delicious. "So, everything's good between us right?"

"Of course," he grinned, glancing to the side, a little worried that she was asking that question in the first place.

"Then is there a reason you haven't kissed me yet?"

His eyebrows raised in delight and his smile widened and when they came to a stop at the next red light, he leaned over and pressed a sweet kiss to her lips, his expression softening as he pulled away. "Hi."

"Hey," she giggled, instantly feeling a buzz flow through her veins. Being around Stiles had a tendency to make her feel as though she was high on life. "So where exactly are you taking me?"

She knew Stiles probably had their date planned out about an hour after they'd agreed to it in their text message conversation four nights ago.

"You've heard of Aquatica?" he asked, turning his attention back to the road as the light turned green, but glancing towards her every so often.

"That new seafood place right on the boardwalk?" she asked, recalling the name being said in conversation by some of her classmates.

"Yeah," he nodded, his fingers loosening around the steering wheel. "Well, I haven't been and a few of my friends said it was pretty good, so I thought we could check it out."

"I'm down," she shrugged, and he wasn't at all surprised because Lydia was generally easy to please.

They pulled into the restaurant parking lot just as the last rays of sun disappeared from the horizon, allowing the moon to cast a beautiful silver glow over the ocean. He'd especially requested a table out on the patio so they could look at the ocean because he knew how much Lydia loved being outdoors. To her, breathing in fresh air was like breathing in happiness.

He walked around the car as she climbed out, smoothing out the skirt of her dress and hiking up the strap of her black leather side bag on her shoulder as she shut the door. He reached down to grab her hand as they began to walk towards the front door of the restaurant, swinging it lightly as he shot her a wide smile, his cheeks flushing slightly as he spoke. "Did I already tell you that you look beautiful? Cause you look beautiful."

She knew he probably would have said the same thing if she'd been wearing her pajamas, but she appreciated the compliment nonetheless. "Thanks. So do you."

Laughing, he lifted his arm and moved it in a circular motion so that she could twirl beneath it, grinning as he laced their fingers together and tugged her towards the restaurant entrance. He dropped their connected hands only to place his palm flat against the small of her back as they followed the hostess to their outdoor table and smiled gratefully as they took their seats.

"This view is amazing," she sighed, holding the leather bound menu between her hands as she stared out at the moonlit ocean. She'd meant it when she'd told Stiles that she liked to come to the beach when she was feeling overwhelmed by life. It was calming and somehow the breeze and the smell of the ocean water and the feel of the sand between her toes always helped her find herself again. "This restaurant isn't super expensive or anything, is it?"

She was a tad bit wary as she noted the high end place settings and the well-dressed clientele. The last thing she wanted was for him to get the impression that she expected nice things because truthfully, she was content to just hang out with him and do nothing. He had a special talent for making her laugh and she liked that he never judged her for her decisions. Despite the fact that they were so different and he might not approve of how she spent her time, he never once made her feel as though she was anything less than incredible.

"It's all good," he assured her, fully confident because he had extra cash to burn from mowing his neighbor's lawn. He'd offered to do it for free, but she'd insisted on paying him, so he figured he'd use the extra money to take Lydia somewhere nice.

She wasn't fully convinced, but she didn't have time to voice her opinion, because their waiter appeared at their table, notepad and pen in hand. He looked familiar and she was about to say just that, but Stiles spoke first, his smile widening and his eyes lighting with recognition.

"Hey, man," Stiles grinned, sticking out a hand for a handshake, which the waiter obliged to. "I didn't know you worked here."

"Yeah," the boy replied, his gaze shifted between Stiles and Lydia. She could tell he was wondering the question that seemed to be on everyone's mind recently – whether or not Stiles and Lydia were dating. "Just started a few weeks ago. You two just hanging out?"

Stiles nodded, one hand drifting beneath the table to squeeze Lydia's thigh as he shot her an adoring smile. "Lydia, you know Tucker Braxton, right? From school."

Her smile widened with recognition and she nodded as she raised a hand in a wave. They went to a small school, which meant even if she'd never spoken to Tucker before, she had at the very least, seen him around. "We're in the same math class, right?"

"I think so," he kept his grin wide. "I don't see you that much, so I'm not sure."

She couldn't tell if that was meant to be a joke or if he was actually disgusted by how up until recently, when she started keeping her promise to her parents to actually attend class, she had been skipping math on the days when she wasn't skipping history. Lips parting, she meant to retort, but Stiles fingers massaged her thigh from above the cotton of her dress and she relaxed back against her chair, deciding against starting a fight.

"We're all busy," Stiles shrugged, attempting to clear the clouds of tension.

"Yeah," Tucker nodded in agreement, turning his attention back to Stiles. "Speaking of which, did you get all those applications in?"

Lydia's brow furrowed in confusion as she had no idea what they were talking about, but Stiles and Tucker seemed to be on the same page, as Stiles nodded and replied. "Yeah, it took a full day of focus, but I got it done."

"Always the overachiever," Tucker laughed. "I'm still working on mine." There was a pause where Stiles simply nodded and Tucker realized he needed to go back to doing his job. "Well, can I get you guys anything to drink?"

"I'm good with water," Lydia replied. She didn't mind a bottle of beer every now and then, but being around Stiles gave her enough of a buzz without adding alcohol to the mix.

"Same here," Stiles said. "Thanks, man."

With a nod, Tucker left the table and Stiles shot Lydia a closed lipped smile as he lifted his hand from her leg so he could open the menu and begin to peruse the entrée options.

"What applications was he talking about?" she asked, genuinely curious, eyes glancing back and forth between the seafood list and her date.

"For college," Stiles replied casually. "And scholarships and stuff. I know they don't have to be in for a little while, but I just like getting them done early."

"Right," she gulped, her gaze now fully glued to her menu, rereading the words crab and oyster over and over.

"Have you done yours, yet?" They hadn't discussed what they would be doing after graduation, mostly because it had never come up, but Stiles was curious, because he kind of hoped he was included somewhere in Lydia's future plans.

Shaking her head, her voice came out just barely above a whisper. "No."

He shrugged, his eyes turning back to the words on the menu. "You still have plenty of time."

She wanted to tell him that the reason she hadn't done them yet wasn't due to procrastination, but she thought perhaps now wasn't the best time, so she let that topic of conversation pass and was extra nice to Tucker when he returned to take their orders.

Once they were left to their own devices, things returned to their normal feeling of comfort. Stiles told her how proud he was of Scott because he was working so hard to make the first line in lacrosse and how much the people in student government drove him crazy, but he always felt like he was doing something good. She told him about her craziest dreams and how sometimes she wished they'd come true and about Allison's latest obsession with doing her shooting practice at night. They laughed as they cracked their crab legs and the juices shot outwards and they shared secret smiles, both of them thinking that they could definitely get used to nights like this.

After sharing a molten lava cake with vanilla ice cream and doing a dance over who would pay because Lydia was still antsy about the price and figured the least she could do was offer to split – Stiles was the one who won that battle – they decided to take a walk along the practically deserted beach.

Lydia stepped out of her boots and socks, leaving them behind a large rock for safe keeping and watching Stiles do the same, even shrugging off his blazer and leaving it neatly folded atop his shoes before he crouched down to roll up the ends of his jeans and they began their stroll.

Taking great care to get as much sand between her toes as possible, Lydia breathed in the salty sea air, relishing the way the soft breeze lifted the hem of her skirt and played with the ends of her hair. "I think I could live here."

"On the beach?" Stiles asked, his steps lighter to keep his feet from getting as dirty.

"Yeah," she smiled softly, the fingers of her right hand playing with the frayed ends of the friendship bracelets tied around her left wrist. Allison had made them for her at the camp she'd been a counselor at the previous summer and although all of them were worn and on the verge of falling off, Lydia treasured them dearly, just as she did anything that remotely involved her sister. Eyes wide and bright, she turned her head to look at him directly. "You know, how people set up tents and sit around bonfires where they cook fish they caught from the ocean and strum on guitars? Haven't you ever wanted to do that?"

If he was being honest, he'd never really been a huge fan of outdoor living. He didn't even really like camping. The lack of privacy involved in bathing in rivers and the ocean wasn't extremely appealing. But the way her eyes filled with passion was utterly beautiful, so he made sure his reply was neutral. "I've never really thought about it."

"I think it would be cool," she shrugged, dropping her hands to her sides. He took advantage of the movement and reached down to lace their fingers together lightly because he enjoyed all forms of physical contact. Her smiled widened at the gesture, impressed by his boldness. "What about you? What do you want to do in the future? Besides, college of course."

"No idea," he lied.

Of course, she could tell that was complete bullshit. Laughing, she swung their connected hands lightly. "Says the boy who filled out all his applications way in advance."

The reminder of the earlier conversation with Tucker caused Stiles to remember something else he'd wanted to discuss with Lydia.

"Hey," he said softly, squeezing her hand and pulling her to a stop, her feet sinking into the sand. "I'm sorry about what Tucker said."

It wasn't in Stiles's nature to be violent or reckless, but it took everything in him not to punch Tucker for being condescending towards Lydia. In the end, the rational side of his brain had won out and he decided it best to not make a scene. Still, even as he'd watched her return to her carefree self once the waiter was gone, the fact that the situation had occurred at all was stuck in the back of his mind.

"It's alright," she assured him quietly. She wasn't so much hurt by the encounter as she was irritated.

"You sure?" Stiles wrinkled his nose in concern, his thumb rubbing lightly over the side of her wrist. "I know he can be kind of a dick."

Dick was a soft word. The truth was that Stiles couldn't stand Tucker Braxton and his obnoxious, pretentious attitude, but he put up with him because they were both in student government and the Stilinski boy didn't need things to be tense when their committees fought as much as they did already.

Lydia laughed, brightly to send a buzz through his veins. "No, it's fine. I don't give a shit if that asshole doesn't think I'm good enough for you."

Stiles blinked rapidly, completely befuddled as he tried to remember where that had even come up in the conversation. "What?"

She shot him a pointed look, her jaw tightening. "Really?"

"I genuinely have no clue what you're talking about," he replied sincerely.

"Please," she said, her voice sounding almost bitter as she dropped his hand to reach up and brush her long bangs from her eyes. "Don't act like your friends don't wonder why you're wasting your time with me."

She honestly didn't care, but that didn't mean she didn't hear the whispers in the hallway. She and Stiles were so completely opposite that it was bound to turn some heads when they started spending more time with each other, even if everybody knew that they used to be best friends.

He always sat in the front row in class because it was where he felt he learned the most and she preferred the view out the window at the back. She never quite understood why he wanted to spend more time than necessary at school and he often felt as if he wasn't giving enough.

So, people talked. Because he always waited for her in the hallway, offering to carry her books while he walked her to her next class, their arms and elbows and fingers brushing, leaving them both with irrepressible grins. And every night, he would send her a text message, saying he hoped she had sweet dreams and she would fall asleep thinking that she hoped her dreams were all about him, because then there was no doubt that they would be incredible.

"Is that what you think?" he asked, shoving his fingers into his jean pockets and leaning forward on the balls of his feet. "That I'm wasting my time?"

He didn't want her to think that he thought of her as anything less than absolutely extraordinary.

"You know that's not what I meant," she sighed, turning her head to stare out at the ocean, watching the way the soft waves rippled in the moonlight.

She wondered if perhaps the reason they had yet to officially define their relationship was because saying it out loud made it real and making it real meant it would hurt more when it ended.

And it would end. It was inevitable.

Soon enough, they would leave high school and Stiles would be off at university, conquering the student government there and running the place in no time and she would be…well, she wasn't sure and that was exactly the problem.

He could tell there was something on her mind, but Lydia never let her emotions simmer for long, so he knew it was only a matter of time before she spoke again. Sure enough, after a few more moments, she licked her lips and turned her gaze back to him, her green eyes looking almost sad. "You want to know the real reason why I haven't done my applications yet? It's because I'm not sure if university is even something I want."

This wasn't particularly surprising information. School made Lydia restless as it was so he couldn't imagine her continuing it when it was no longer required. Her spirit wasn't meant to be contained by a classroom.

He didn't say anything, though. He could tell she wasn't expecting a response; she just wanted to get some things off her chest. Lydia could think what she wanted about them being too different, but Stiles understood her; he had always understood.

"Even when we were kids," she said, the conviction in her voice increasing with each word as she twisted the silver ring she always wore on her middle finger, "you always knew exactly what you wanted. I always admired that about you; your ambition and your drive. You have no idea how lucky you are that you have it all figured out because sometimes I just feel so lost. Like everyone knows where their lives are headed and what they want to accomplish and I just don't even know where to start. Like everyone is sprinting for the finish line and I'm still waiting for the gun to go off."

It was concern that often kept her awake at night. She'd count the rotations of her ceiling fan and hope that inspiration would strike; that she'd somehow become imbued with a sense of how she was meant to spend her life.

"Do you really think I have it all figured out?" he asked quietly, once he was sure she'd said everything she wanted to say. "Because, I can promise you, that's not true."

She quirked one eyebrow upwards, a small smirk playing at the corners of her lips. "Really? Because I'm pretty sure that planner that you carry around says otherwise."

She'd always see him writing and making notes in it, so one day, when he'd left her alone in his backyard to get them drinks from the kitchen, she'd taken a peek, astounded to find that he had nearly the next year of his life written into the calendar.

"Alright," he laughed lightly, pulling one hand from his pocket so he could run his fingers through his windblown hair. "So I like to plan ahead. But we're teenagers, Lydia. Nobody has their life figured out when they're eighteen. Ask your parents. They'll tell you the same thing."

Stiles, too, had his moments of doubt and when he found himself questioning his choices, his father would assure him that everyone found themselves in times of self-crisis.

She supposed he was right and she breathed in deeply, allowing the salty air to calm her nerves. Her parents had been nothing but supportive of the fact that she had no idea what she wanted to do with her life. They knew she was brilliant enough to excel at whatever she set her mind too, so they offered up all sorts of suggestions to help her narrow the field, such as studying abroad or getting a job after graduation. Perhaps just putting herself out there and exploring all the options was the best first step.

"Besides," he shrugged, taking a step towards her. "Things change all the time. So just because you make plans doesn't mean they're always going to hold up and sometimes things happen that make you reevaluate everything. Like six months ago, I didn't know I was going to end up at least halfway in love with you."

He hadn't meant to say the last part; it was more just something he was thinking, but apparently around Lydia, his brain to mouth filter was nonexistent.

Her eyes widened in shock and she gulped. "What?"

"Umm, I'm sorry," he stuttered, mentally slapping himself. "I freaked you out, didn't I?"

"A little," she admitted, laughing nervously. "Just give me a minute, ok?"

She squished her toes deeper into the sand, her mind racing as she stared at him and tried to make sense of what the hell had just happened. Lydia had always cared about Stiles, she'd practically known him since he was born, after all, so perhaps it was just a matter of time before that connection deepened into something more.

But she knew nothing about love. She knew he hadn't officially said the words, but even the fact that he was somewhat on his way to thinking it scared her because she wasn't really sure how she felt. She cared about him deeply, that much was certain, but was that love? She'd never experienced it before, so how could she possibly know.

"Lydia?" he broke the silence, rocking back and forth on his heels nervously. "Can you say something?"

He wasn't ready to say the words to her yet, but knew it was only a matter of time until he fell completely. Hopefully he hadn't scared her away before he even got that chance.

Standing up a little straighter, she stepped towards him until their toes were touching in the sand, flattening her palms against his chest and tilting her chin upwards to look him in the eye. "Do you really feel that way about me?"

She knew he would be straight with her because Stiles was always honest, but she held her breath anyways, only letting it out to allow her lips to stretch into a soft smile when he nodded slowly and his hands came to rest at her waist. Lifting herself to the balls of her feet, she leaned in to kiss him soundly on the lips, smiling when she felt him return the pressure.

His fingers squeezed into her hips as she pulled away, the corners of his lips upturned into a pleasantly surprised smile. "Wow."

She laughed softly, bending her fingers to scratch against the panels of his button up, her expression slowly becoming more serious because she did have something else to admit, she just wanted to kiss him to let him know that his words were not unappreciated. "I don't know if I'm there yet…but I think if you give me some time, that one day, I will be."

"Fair enough," he nodded, letting out a small sigh of relief because, really, that declaration could have led to a much worse ending, such as her never wanting to see him again.

"So, we're ok?" she asked, glad that everything was out in the open.

"Yeah," he smiled softly, leaning in to kiss her again, mumbling against her lips. "We're fantastic."

They intertwined their fingers again, swinging their arms lightly as they walked back towards their belongings once Stiles remembered that he needed to be up early in the morning to drive Scott to a lacrosse game. Lydia promised to come for moral support, and even convinced herself that she'd be able to drag her mother out of bed in the early hours as well.

They kissed quite a lot on the way home. He kissed her before he opened the car door, not even caring that her bare feet meant sand was getting all over his car and he kissed her at every red light and every stop sign because he couldn't get enough of the way her lips felt pressed against his.

When he pulled his car to a stop in front of her house, he leaned in to kiss her again, but was stopped when she pressed a finger to his lips and lifted one side of her mouth into a small smile. "Do you have plans next Friday?"

He was pretty sure he didn't, but even if he did, he'd probably cancel them because the look in her eyes was making his heart rate spike. "No."

"Good," her smile widened, her finger tracing lightly over his bottom lip. "Cause my mom has plans and Allison is sleeping over at a friend's house, so you should come over, because I think we can have some fun."

He didn't need to ask to know what she was implying and he made a mental note to stop by the drug store and buy some condoms before he returned her smirk and leaned in to give her one last kiss. "Sounds great."

She smiled against his mouth, tugging her fingers through his hair and sucking on his top lip as she pulled away. "Goodnight."

"Goodnight, gorgeous," he whispered as she pushed open the door, gathering her boots and purse before stepping out of the car.

She waved to him as she watched his Honda pull away from the curb and she couldn't stop smiling as she walked inside, immediately making her way to the living room, where her mother was sprawled out on the couch running reruns of old sitcoms.

"You're back early," Mama Martin raised her eyebrows in surprise, sitting up straight and pulling the blanket that was spread over her legs up to her chest. It was still before midnight, which she knew was Stiles's curfew, so she was surprised that her daughter wouldn't have made the most of every minute. "Did you have a good night?"

"Great!" Lydia grinned, clutching her boots to her chest, her purse hanging off her shoulder.

When Lydia and Stiles first started doing…whatever they were doing, Mama Martin had decided that it was best not to ask details of what they did because she didn't want to be seriously weirded out. So she teased her daughter instead. "And how's your boyfriend?"

She expected Lydia to roll her eyes or get flustered, but instead, she just shrugged, looking completely calm. "He's good."

If anything, tonight had solidified that she and Stiles were exclusive, so she no longer felt uncertain as to whether or not they were boyfriend and girlfriend. It might take some getting used to, but at least now she knew where they stood.

Mama Martin's eyebrows shot up even further and she wasn't quite sure how to respond, so she stretched her lips into what she hoped was a convincing smile. "That's great, honey. I'm glad."

"Yep," Lydia nodded, stepping forward to give her mother a goodnight kiss on the cheek. "Well, I'm gonna crash. Night, Mom."

Before she could say anything else, Lydia had disappeared, leaving her on the couch wondering what the hell was going on.

Not wanting to wake Allison, Lydia was as quiet as possible as she stripped out of her clothes and washed off her feet. After she'd changed into her pajamas, brushed her teeth, and washed her face, she checked her phone to see if Stiles had sent his usual goodnight text and wasn't disappointed when the words 'sweet dreams, beautiful' appeared on her screen.

As she lay in bed, no longer bothering to count the rotations of her ceiling fan, she came to the realization that she was incredibly lucky to have the people she had in her life. And perhaps the future was scary and she still had no idea what she wanted to do, but she had her family and she had Stiles and with them by her side, she could face anything.


	3. Chapter 3

She'd never had this problem before. Everyone knew that Lydia had no hesitations about speaking her mind. In fact, there were plenty of occasions when her lack of brain to mouth filter had gotten her into trouble, such as at school, where she was practically on a first name basis with the principal.

But she supposed she shouldn't have been surprised that this was happening because none of her usual rules had ever applied when it came to Stiles Stilinski. She had never been much of a planner, but all of a sudden, she found herself excited to schedule dates weeks in advance.

She hadn't expected to fall in love either, but that had happened as well.

It sort of snuck up on her – well, _he _sort of snuck up on her. As a child, Stiles Stilinski had been someone she loved spending time with and she'd missed him dearly in the years they'd drifted apart, which was why she was so ecstatic when, in their last year of high school, they had finally managed to reconnect. Of course, she hadn't expected it to take a romantic turn, but she soon discovered that she liked the way she felt when she was with him – absolutely fearless.

Admittedly, she'd been scared shitless when he first mentioned love. But he hadn't really brought it up again since that night on the beach. He'd seen how his declaration had taken her by surprise and decided that he'd let her define the terms of their relationship.

It took her six more weeks, but she finally did.

They had been lying in the grass at the park, soaking in the sun and enjoying the beautiful weather as they tried to make shapes out of the clouds. She'd had her head on his chest, listening to his steady heartbeat, thinking that it sounded better than her favorite song, and she had used the pad of her finger to trace those three words into the cotton of the t-shirt covering his stomach; the words that he'd given her time to figure out if she meant. It had taken him all of three seconds to understand her message and she'd heard his heart rate speed up and felt him smile against the top of her head before he pressed a kiss to her hair and whispered, "I love you, too."

Perhaps it was her cynicism or that fact that she'd never before been in a relationship with someone she cared so much about, but she had expected being in love to be different. She had expected saying those words to change her relationship with Stiles, but instead, everything stayed the same. All that was different was that now she was certain that Stiles would always be there for her.

Maybe the reason it didn't feel any different was because she and Stiles had always loved each other; they just needed some time to discover what that meant.

Which is why she knew she had to tell him sooner rather than later. The problem was that she just didn't know how.

She'd tried enough times to say it; when he was driving her to and from school, when they were studying on his back porch, or sitting on the beach, or he was holding her in his arms after they'd had sex on her bedroom floor, but the timing just never seemed to be right. Because maybe there just wasn't a right time to say something that had the potential to be so life altering.

For the first time in months, Lydia found herself staring at her ceiling fan when she woke up in the morning, wondering what the hell she was going to say to Stiles.

It hadn't been an easy decision, but she knew it was the right one and despite going into her relationship with Stiles knowing that this most likely would have happened eventually, she still had no idea how to begin the conversation.

Sighing, she threw back her covers and swung her legs over the side of the bed, raising her fingers to her eyes to rub away the sleep as she trudged towards the bathroom to get ready for the day. Forty five minutes later, she had successfully showered and packed her book bag and was heading downstairs, fully dressed.

Allison was already gone, Scott having picked her up on his way to lacrosse practice that morning so that she could be the ever supportive girlfriend, which meant that the only other person in the house was her mother.

Although Natalie generally despised mornings, she did like to be up when her children left for school, so she sat at the kitchen table while they ate breakfast and sipped coffee from her favorite mug and attempted keep her eyes open. She'd missed Allison that morning because lacrosse practice started at an absurd hour, but she made it a point to be there for her other daughter.

"Morning, Mom," Lydia greeted as she entered the kitchen, leaning down to briefly kiss the top of Natalie's head before dropping her book bag at the floor near her chair and turning towards the pantry to check her cereal options.

"Morning, Lyd," Natalie groaned, lifting her steaming mug to her lips as the corners of her mouth turned upwards into a small smile. "How's your day looking?"

Lydia shrugged as she pulled a box of cornflakes from the shelf and placed it on the granite countertop, reaching up to pull open the cupboard above her head and obtain a bowl. "Pretty standard. No tests or anything, so that's good."

"Cool," Natalie nodded, taking a little longer than usual to comprehend her daughter's words because of her drowsy state. "Is Stiles picking you up soon?"

"Nope," she shook her head, keeping her gaze glued to the cereal being poured into the bowl. "He had an early morning student government meeting, so I'm gonna skate to school today."

The fact that her daughter was dating the sheriff's son was more or less just a part of everyday life now. Natalie saw Stiles almost as much as she saw her own kids, seeing as the Stilinski boy often drove Lydia, and sometimes Allison, to and from school and spent his afternoons and evenings studying in the Martin's kitchen, because no matter how much Natalie trusted Stiles with her daughter, she was still uncomfortable leaving them near a bed while Lydia's door was closed.

Natalie had always loved Stiles like a son, but after seeing how happy the teenager made her daughter, her heart swelled even more. Still, she was wary of their relationship because she was always worried that if things ended badly, then she and the sheriff would be forced to take sides and the whole dynamic of their friendship would shift. Especially, since Natalie assumed that if things ever did end, it would be Lydia who did the breaking of hearts.

Which is why her state of drowsiness immediately cleared when Lydia hesitated at the mention of Stiles's name. Generally speaking, any sort of reference to him would cause the teenager's green eyes to light up and the corners of her lips to turn upwards, but this morning, she tensed at the word, which definitely wasn't a good sign.

"Is every alright with you two?" Mama Martin asked cautiously, setting her mug back down on the table as Lydia opened the fridge to retrieve the milk. Surely, if they had broken up, Natalie would have known about it by now, if not from Lydia, then from the sheriff.

"For now…," Lydia mumbled as she finished pouring milk over her cornflakes and dug through the drawer to her right for a spoon. It was unlike Lydia to be mysterious about what was on her mind, so Natalie didn't bother questioning what that meant because she knew she would end up telling her what was wrong eventually. "I haven't told him about my plans after graduation."

"Oh," Natalie breathed out, slightly relieved that she hadn't just announced her intention to break Stiles's heart.

Over the course of the past few months, Lydia had done a lot of thinking about what she wanted to do once she was out of high school. That had always been her biggest problem: that she didn't have any sort of direction in her life. But being around Stiles, who had pretty much had the next ten years mapped out, made her realize that she needed to do some serious soul searching.

So she got to work. She talked with people in every profession imaginable, even shadowing her mother at school one day to see if education was the path she wanted to take. In the end, she'd decided that the only way to figure out who she was, she needed to get completely outside of her comfort zone and the only way that was going to happen was if she got as far away from home as possible.

And therein laid the problem, because Stiles had gotten a scholarship to Stanford and gotten into the political science program, just as he had hoped and was on track to accomplish everything he ever wanted. Of course, she was beyond happy for him; it was amazing to watch all of his dreams come true and she had no doubt that he would end up being incredibly successful.

But now, she wasn't so sure she'd be around to watch it happen.

Her parents had been incredibly supportive of her decision, thinking that what she had decided to do was amazing and glad that she finally seemed to have found a sense of purpose. And although they would miss her terribly while she was away, they understood that this was what she needed to do.

Stiles, however, she wasn't so sure about.

Sighing, she brought her bowl to the table and slipped into the seat beside Natalie, dragging her spoon through the cornflakes to wet them thoroughly. "I don't know how to tell him."

Natalie knew what it was like to be the bearer of life altering news. The first time she'd sat down with her own parents to tell them she wanted to go to school across the country, they'd looked at her as though she was crazy. But in the end, they supported her wishes because they loved her unconditionally and they wanted nothing more than for her to achieve his dreams and although Lydia may not be so sure, Natalie was certain that if she was just honest with Stiles, he would do the same.

"Just say it," Natalie replied softly, reaching out one hand to squeeze her daughter's forearm gently. "If he loves you, and I know he does, he'll understand."

The advice was simple enough, but Lydia wasn't sure the follow through be quite so easy. She had no doubt that Stiles would be understanding about why she needed to go, but once he learned the details, such as the time commitment, it was entirely possible that everything about their relationship would change.

"Look, Lydia," Natalie sighed. "I don't know how he's going to feel or how he's going to respond or what's going to happen, but I do know, that at the end of the day, everything is going to turn out exactly how it's supposed to."

Nodding and shooting her mother a grateful smile, Lydia finished the rest of her cornflakes, put away her bowl and spoon, grabbed her skateboard, and gave Natalie a goodbye kiss on the cheek before heading out the door.

She arrived at school just in time for her first class, one that she thankfully didn't have with Stiles, which meant it gave her more time to prepare what she was going to say. Unfortunately, no matter how many times she played out their potential conversation in her head, there wasn't one scenario where it ended in a happily ever after.

Lydia didn't consider herself a particularly romantic person, so it wasn't as though she was under the impression that she and Stiles would be together forever, at least, she didn't know how their lives would turn out, but she did love him and she had hoped they would be in each other's lives for a long time to come. She supposed that even if the romantic aspect of their relationship ended, then at least she could count on them being friends or at least running in to each other every so often. It wasn't as though her mother and the sheriff would end up hating each other any time soon.

Still, it was a shame, she thought as she spun the combination lock on her locker between classes, using a little more force than necessary to pull it open, that it had taken so long for anything to happen between her and Stiles and it would be over so soon.

Her thought process was cut short when soft lips pressed to her cheek and she smiled out of habit as she turned her head to face him, wondering if he could sense that things were off kilter. He had never been particularly good at guessing what she was thinking, though, so his grin widened as their eyes met and he reached out to squeeze her arm adoringly.

"Good morning, beautiful," he said, brown eyes shining with happiness, as they always did when he was around her.

Sometimes she wished he wasn't so damn perfect because then maybe the conversation they needed to have wouldn't be so difficult to begin.

"Morning," she replied softly, turning her gaze back to the inside of her locker so she could switch out her binders.

"Hey, sorry I couldn't drive you today." He crinkled his nose apologetically and watched as she shoved the new binder into her book bag before closing her locker.

"It's alright," she shrugged. "It's nice out today, so skating was fun. How was your meeting?"

"Brutal," he groaned, reaching out to grab her hand and lace their fingers together because his backpack prevented him from swinging an arm over her shoulder as he began the walk to her next class. "I'm kind of glad I won't be here much longer."

After they graduated in two weeks, Stiles's class president duties would turn over to the current vice president. As much as he was ready for a new chapter in his life, part of him would miss high school terribly. He'd always known who he was while he was at home, known what he wanted to accomplish and the thought that this would change when he went away to college was terrifying.

"Yeah," Lydia nodded, squeezing his hand and sensing the perfect segue into what she needed to tell him. "It'll be good for all of us to get a chance to start over."

He hummed in response, but before she could continue, they were standing outside her classroom and he was turning towards her to say goodbye.

"I should get to class," he said, leaning in to press a soft kiss to her lips. She closed her eyes and soaked it in, loving the way he always smiled against her mouth. "I'll see you later, babe. Do want a ride home?"

"Sure," she nodded, thinking it was probably better if they didn't have their conversation in a public place. It would give them a chance to get everything out there without worrying about the people around them.

Turning the corners of his lips upwards into a smile, he pecked her lips again before dropping her hand, waving as he turned away. "Great, I'll see you in history. Love you."

"I love you, too," she whispered at his retreating back as she turned into her psychology classroom.

That was what she would miss the most, she decided as she slipped into her usual seat at the back of the room; the fact that he always told her exactly how he felt. After the night on the beach where he'd freaked her out by saying he thought he was falling for her, he hadn't said the 'l' word again, but he didn't have to because he'd said it about a million other ways before she finally realized she felt it too.

And ever since she'd said it back, there hadn't been a day that had gone by where he hadn't told her he loved her, sometimes multiple times a day. He said it in the car while they were sitting in front of her house as he kissed her goodbye, he said it in the hallway when he walked her to class and in the texts he sent her before they fell asleep and after every single time they slept together.

A year ago, Lydia probably would have thought such behavior was ridiculous and sappy and unnecessary, but the truth was that she appreciated it greatly because it was always nice to know that she was loved. And she supposed that a part of her still thought it was amazing that someone like Stiles could fall in love with someone like her.

The remainder of the day went by too quickly for her liking and although she was thankful that being late to history meant the only interaction she had with Stiles was when he winked at her as she walked towards her desk in the back and kissed her cheek before he ran off to his next class when the bell rang, for the first time in forever, she found herself dreading the final bell.

She walked to her locker slowly after exiting her physics class to find Stiles already waiting, his back leaned against the metal wall and his legs crossed at the ankles. Because his student government meetings had taken place that morning, he would be leaving school almost immediately after it ended for the first time in weeks. Forcing her lips into a smile despite the fact that her stomach was twisting into nervous knots, she wiggled her fingers at him in greeting before spinning her combination lock and pulling open her locker to grab her skateboard from inside.

"Hey," she said softly, her eyes sweeping over the pile of textbooks and binders within to make sure she didn't need anything else. "Can we talk?"

"Sure," he shrugged, pushing himself off the lockers. "About what?"

Now wasn't the place to explain. "I'll tell you in the car."

He lifted his eyebrows in surprise, knowing that if Lydia had a problem speaking her mind, something was wrong. Finally starting to sense that the conversation she wanted to have was serious, he nodded slowly. "Yeah, alright."

They didn't actually talk much in the car, Lydia because she was formulating her thoughts and Stiles because he was wondering what the hell was going on. When he parked his Jeep badly in front of the Martin house twenty minutes later, Lydia had finally decided that the best way to say what she need to say was to just get it all out there.

"Something's wrong, isn't it?" he asked quietly as he pulled his keys from the ignition and dropped them into his lap, staring down at where they lay on top of his dark jeans.

She immediately felt her heart ache, but she didn't want to start off with negatives, so she shook her head as she unfastened her seatbelt and twisted her torso to face him more fully. "There's nothing wrong really, I just have something to tell you."

He kept quiet, allowing her to continue, lifting his gaze to study her expression.

"After graduation," she began slowly. "I'm not going to college."

"I know." He blinked, thinking that couldn't possibly be what had her so tense. Considering she'd never talked about filling out applications, he just assumed that she had no plans to attend more school after graduation. He'd been very supportive of her in her quest to figure out what she wanted to do with her life, listening carefully after she'd come back from a day of talking to a doctor or lawyer and tell him that although she thought what they did was amazing, it didn't feel quite right for her. As far as he knew, she hadn't yet figured out how she was going to spend her post high school life, but he had faith that she would soon enough.

"Stiles," she sighed, wanting desperately to reach out and hold his hand before that was no longer an option. "I joined the Peace Corps."

Of all the things she could have possibly said, that was not what he was expecting. Blinking rapidly, he furrowed his brow in confusion. "But that application process must have taken months. How come you didn't tell me before?"

"Because it didn't seem real until I got the acceptance and my assignment," she admitted. It was something that she had been interested in, but she hadn't thought she'd actually be approved, so when she received a large packet in the mail with her instructions, she'd been beyond shocked. Her family had as well, but unlike with Stiles, she'd told them about the steps along the way, so although they would miss her terribly, the news hadn't been as big of a shock.

"Wow," he said quietly, trying to wrap his head around the magnitude of her decision. "That's big."

"Yeah, I know." She still couldn't figure out exactly how he was feeling. "But this is something I need to do, Stiles."

The tone of her voice caused his eyes to widen as he looked at her and he nodded his head rapidly, not wanting her for one second to think that he wouldn't always support her one hundred percent in whatever decision she made. "Of course. I understand."

"Do you?" She asked, not entirely sure he'd realized what this decision entailed.

Inhaling deeply, Stiles nodded, reaching out to grab her hand and intertwining their fingers before squeezing gently, a gesture which caused her to outwardly sigh with relief, though internally, she was afraid it wouldn't last much longer.

"Lydia, I love you," he said with complete conviction.

"I love you, too," she repeated back automatically, relishing in the words and the feeling of security and warmth that washed over her every time he said them. She didn't add in 'I always will' because she knew it would sound like a promise she couldn't keep, but the truth was that whether or not she and Stiles stayed together forever, he would always hold a special place in her heart.

He smiled softly at her words, holding in a sigh of relief, because his gut instinct for the past half hour had been telling him that she was about to break up with him. "This is amazing. You're going to be amazing."

"Thanks," she whispered, glad for the support, though she knew the hardest part of the conversation was still to come.

"When do you leave?" He knew that they would have to make the most of the time they had together because being in a long distance relationship would be extremely difficult and taxing.

She swiped her thumb along the side of his wrist as she responded. "A week after graduation."

His eyebrows rose in surprise, his fingers loosening between hers slightly. "That's soon."

"I know," she wrinkled her nose apologetically. "And I know I should have told you sooner, but to be honest, it hasn't really hit me yet and I didn't know what to say."

"It's alright," he assured her softly, lifting his other hand to cup her cheek, his thumb tracing her cheekbone gently. "This was a big decision and probably not an easy one for you to make, so I understand why telling me was so difficult."

She was trying really hard to keep her eyes from filling with tears, thinking all of this would be so much easier if he would just get angry and be upset with her. But instead, he was being compassionate and supportive, just like she should have known he would be, and the fact that it only made her love him more made her blurt out her next words without any sort of buildup.

"I'm going to be gone for two years."

His thumb froze, his hand lifting from her cheek, his eyes wide as he realized he should have seen this coming. The reason that she'd been afraid to tell him wasn't because she didn't think he'd understand, it was because his original gut instinct had been right; she wanted to break up.

It dawned on him that it was naïve to think this conversation would have ended any other way. It wasn't as though she was studying abroad and would be able to send him daily updates of what she was doing and he'd be able to go visit her when his schedule permitted. No, they would more than likely have virtually no contact and he had no idea how often she'd be able to write or call, or if she'd be able to do so at all.

He understood why she had made the decision to go and he understood that it was part of her journey of self-discovery, but he had been hoping that their journeys would include each other, because they had finally gotten to such a good place and he had been looking forward to starting a new chapter in his life with Lydia by his side.

"So is this it?" he asked, bringing his hands back into his lap, leaving her feeling cold and empty. "Are we over?"

More than anything, he wanted her to say no, say that they would find a way to work it out and more than anything, Lydia wished she could do exactly that. But she knew better than to make promises she didn't know whether she could keep. So she didn't say that perhaps when she got back, they could start over, because for all she knew, by the time she got back, Stiles would have moved on completely. And she would stand aside and be supportive because all she wanted in the world was for Stiles to be happy, not realizing that Stiles couldn't imagine being happy unless she was in the picture.

"It wouldn't be fair," she said, her eyes pleading with him to understand. "It wouldn't be fair to either of us if we stayed together. Two years is such a long time. I don't know who I'm going to be in two years or what I'm going to want and neither do you."

"I'm still going to want you," he replied automatically, completely convinced of this fact. He knew he was making the situation more difficult than it needed to be, but he felt as though someone was ripping his heart into bite sized chunks. He was having trouble breathing and perhaps part of his brain was still in denial, but wasn't ready to let her go just yet. He was fairly certain that he'd loved Lydia Martin for as long as he could remember and he couldn't believe that it could all fall apart so easily.

She let out a watery gasp, her eyes filling with tears as she shook her head, wishing she could find the right words to say, that she should could assure him that they'd find a way to be together, that they were meant to be and everything would work out in the end, but she the truth was that she'd meant every word she said to him and it was entirely possible that when she came home two years from now, she would be an entirely different person. She knew that she would always carry Stiles with her, but that didn't mean that when she returned, she would want to just pick things up where they'd left off.

Besides, she wanted him to find his own path; to go out and conquer the world, just like he had planned, and she knew that if he was concerned with maintaining a relationship with her while she was away, those dreams might not be realized. Breaking up was what was best for both of them – it would give them both the opportunity to discover who they were – but it still felt like the world was ending.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, not knowing what else to say. Blinking back tears, she leaned forward and kissed his cheek gently, "I'm so sorry, Stiles."

Before he could respond, she grabbed her book bag and her skateboard and pushed open the passenger door to his car, slamming it shut and running up the front steps to her house, her vision blurred by her tears and making it difficult for her to dig her house key from her bag.

She didn't turn around to see if he was still there after she stepped inside, knowing that if she did, her already shattered heart might dissolve entirely. Dropping her bag and skateboard by the front door, she stepped out of her ankle boots and padded down the steps to the basement art studio where she knew her mother would be at this time in the afternoon because her classes had gotten out early today.

Just as Lydia had hoped, she found her mother standing in front of an easel, contemplating the best color usage on the painting on which she was currently working.

"Hey, honey," Natalie said as she heard one of her daughter's footsteps approaching. Her head turned to see which of her favorite girls it was, her next sentence getting caught in her throat at the sight of Lydia's tear stained cheeks.

She felt like she had been punched in the gut and immediately dropped her paintbrush, pulling her daughter into an embrace and kissing the top of her head without question.

"It's alright," Natalie assured Lydia, not knowing what was actually wrong, but hating seeing her upset. "Everything will be alright."

"I know I did the right thing," Lydia said, her voice muffled against her mother's chest. "But why does it hurt so much?"

Her words made the reason for her distress clear. After weeks and weeks of fretting, she had finally told Stiles about her post-graduation plans and the conversation had ended with them breaking up.

In all honesty, Natalie had figured that's what would happen. Still, she knew that there were no sides to take in this particular situation and the sheriff would completely understand Lydia's decision, and for that she was grateful.

Rubbing her hands comfortingly up and down her daughter's back, Natalie guided Lydia to the worn out leather couch pushed up against the wall, pulling her close to her chest as they took a seat. She didn't know what to say to make her daughter feel better, but she was pretty sure she didn't need words, she just needed her mother to be there.

So she hugged Lydia tight and she let her cry.

Lydia cried about Stiles, heartbroken that she'd lost her best friend and the first boy she'd ever loved in one fell swoop. She cried because in three weeks, she would be leaving home alone for the very first time. She cried because although she knew leaving was something she had to do, she was absolutely scared out of her mind. She cried until she had nothing left, until she felt empty and hollow and completely dried out.

Even when she had no tears left to shed, Natalie squeezed her tight and Lydia clung to her mother the way she had when she was a child and the ocean waves had knocked her down and nearly pulled her under and she'd run to Natalie screaming, scared to go back in. But just as she had ended up conquering her fear back then, she knew that she would eventually find the courage to pick up the pieces of her shattered heart and face the world with a brave face and discover exactly who she was meant to be.

Natalie held her daughter close, thinking her baby girl had turned out to be quite an amazing human being and she couldn't wait to see all that Lydia accomplished, but until then, she was content to have her right here, not quite ready to let her go just yet.


End file.
